Farmer's Apprentice
by TundrainAfrica
Summary: Will lied to Mr. Chubb about stealing from the kitchen years ago. How did that small decision change the course of the young boy's life? AU Crack fic.


**Some might remember this. It was pretty cute back when I first wrote it so I decided to keep it up in case some people might enjoy it.**

" _Did you steal the cupcakes?"_

"… _No. I didn't."_

"Try to eat something, Will. Tomorrow's the big day, after all." Jenny gestured at the plate of Will's favorite food that she made with her own blood and sweat (literally or figuratively, we do not know. But there must be a secret to her supposed good food, most probably because it may have been made with her own blood and sweat. It is logical… Everyone sweats in the heat of the kitchen and I'm pretty sure a whole lot of cooks had a cut off finger every now and then. Some of it must have just gotten in the food. So that means her blood and sweat tastes good if my inference is correct, no wonder Gilan likes her…)

Will could not eat a bite.

"Nerves, I imagine," George piped up. He did some awkward stuff, like pulling at his jacket lapels. Will could tell just by looking at him that George definitely had no future in the Courier business. Will knew anyway that that duty was going to Alyss, knowing that George was probably going to become a scribe. And Will… he knew what he wanted. He wanted to go to Battleschool and become a knight. He had a backup too, and for some reason, it was to be a Ranger. There was just something or some celestial being that was pulling him to the job like gravity.

Will said, "I'm not nervous." And he wasn't, because he knew that if he didn't end up in Battleschool, he could join the Rangers, since, you know, nobody wanted to join them and half of everyone thought they were a bunch of low-class fools with fashion issues (I mean seriously? Cloaks with weird colors? I'm pretty sure the overweight inn owner has more fashion sense than that) for some reason. The other half were simply scared of them. He heard that this year, the Ranger of Redmont, Halt, was going to pick a new apprentice. Will knew that it would be easy to get in, because the others either thought of Rangers as fashionably-challenged fools who had nothing better to do with their lives, or as Battleschool rejects who in the end turned to crazy old men who would cut their hair with saxe knives. Will was pretty sure that that was what their weapons were called.

Some of the other potential apprentices thought that Rangers were practically either gods or ghosts. And that kept the rest of them away. That was good for Will. He thanked his god, whatever religion he was for his bad taste in jobs (if he didn't get into Battleschool, that is).

"I think it's good to be nervous," George continued. "It heightens perception and sharpens reactions."

If Will was actually listening to him, he would have ended up nervous for not being nervous at all. But you see, these days, no one listens to George. He was just going to end up a scribe, anyway. A job where you didn't really talk, so no one had to listen to you.

Everyone ended up talking about what they wanted to be. George tried to join the conversation, about being a scribe, but since everyone knew what he wanted to be, they decided to ignore him, just like how the plot decided to ignore him in canon.

Alyss, as said earlier, was going to be a Courier, you know, since she was tall, graceful, blonde, well-spoken, et cetera, et cetera, and everything else that rich, closet perverted nobles were attracted to. They were obviously going to say yes to her. (Don't worry, there's no banging, since Alyss and Lady Pauline can be quite cheeky, in a well-spoken way of course.)

Jenny was obviously going to be picked as Master Chubb's apprentice, judging by how much blood and sweat she put into her cooking. Face it, she loved food. She loved making it, and just like everyone else, she loved eating it more,judging by her healthy frame.

Horace was going to Battleschool. There was no doubt about it: his talent of eating in spite of nervousness, compared to Will, and winning the genetic lottery when it comes to height and build (which is dominant in terms of Mendelian genetics [when it comes to pea plants, though]). Judging by Will and Jenny, we're pretty sure if they're homozygous recessive when it comes to height. Alyss, on the other hand, may have been a fruit of interdominance in non-Mendelian genetics, since she was both slender and tall. She could have been a warrior and joined Battleschool! Too bad she was born lacking a Y chromosome.

Well, that is beyond the point! Back to the story.

Which left Will. Well, if you were paying attention a while ago, you're aware of Will's choices. But just for the story's sake, we'll add his third and last choice. His third choice was to take care of the horses in the Battleschool. His last choice was to end up a farmer's apprentice. We don't know why it was in that order, because we're pretty sure we'd rather live our whole lives taking care of crops than scooping horse dung from stables. Anyway, our opinion's not important as the narrators, 'cause remember, it's Will's story.

So finally Choosing Day came. The five wardmates (there are five of them, right?) gathered in Baron Arald's office. Being nice (or lazy) authors, we decided to spare you the corny jokes of Baron Arald and go straight to the point. Master Chubb was there, along with Lady Pauline, Sir Rodney the Battlemaster, and a grizzled old Ranger whom we don't think we have to name, who definitely fit his stereotype: fashionably challenged, weird haircut, and looked as if he didn't have a life beyond the cabin.

To George's dismay, the Scribemaster wasn't there, said to be due to a scribing incident (which most likely involved a either a paper cut or being stabbed by a quill; knowing their job, that's the closest they'll ever get to mortal danger).

Being just authors who believe in equality (especially in screentime when it comes to Wardmates), we have decided to give you a brief look at George's thoughts at that moment.

 _The Scribemaster's not here?! Now where the fiddles am I gonna go? They're never gonna put me in Battleschool, or in speaking jobs (ahem, Couriers). I definitely don't wanna be a Ranger! Just pray for the Kitchen, just pray for the Kitchen…_

It seemed that George's religion, though, betrayed him. He ended up being rejected by Master Chubb. It was said to be because of his lack of passion for making food, and of course, eating it, judging by his lanky appearance.

"It's genetics!" George tried to say. But everyone knew the memory of his parents as large bodied people. Being uneducated on anything not pertaining to diplomatics, cooking, wars, hiding behind mottled cloaks, or sword strokes, they completely disregarded the fact that they could both be heterozygous and their only child was homozygous and the winner of the 25% chanced homozygous recessive gene. Genetics can be such an ass, right?

So George ended up begging for a spot in the Diplomatic Services. But seeing how he did it: sweaty palms, begging on his knees, stuttering and all—you know the answer. And Battleschool: you know the answer to that too. Along with Will, he was rejected. George then subtly prayed that he'd end up as a farmer instead, which earned him a mental face palm from Lady Pauline and her newly made apprentice, Alyss.

Will, on the other hand, was pretty sure (for some reason) he was going to end up a ranger's apprentice (title drop!).

Halt looked between these two choices. Who to have as an apprentice?

Halt pointed at Will.

"Definitely not this liar," he said.

Then he pointed at George.

"This one is the obvious choice."

And that left Will to work at Big Bill Pataki's farm.

 **Tell me what you think! As of now, I'll keep it as a one shot ^^**


End file.
